Authors: Eliza Dean
Chapter 30
When she awoke the soft glow of the early morning sun was shining into the living room. She rolled to her back but knew before she did that he was already gone. It was such a lonely feeling to look over at where he had been an hour before and see nothing there. She wondered if she would ever get use to it. She sighed and sank her face into his pillow in order to breathe in the scent of him. It was still there, and for that she smiled in gratefulness.
She closed her eyes in an attempt to return to sleep and began going over their conversation in her head. She wondered if she would ever get tired of hearing him say that he loved her. She smiled at the thought of it.
No matter what, you know how much I love you, don’t you, Susanna?
The words seemed to ricochet off her subconscious and made her eyes snap open. It was such an odd thing for him to say. She tried to go back to sleep and yet something kept pulling her back to those words.
No matter what …
She should have asked him what he meant by that and she silently admonished herself for failing to do so. As she laid in silence before the fireplace the storm started to blow in from the east. She could hear the first drops of rain as it hit the tin roof of the barn outside. It would be a long day if she was forced to spend it indoors alone. She closed her eyes once again and attempted to return to sleep when a light knocking noise broke the silence. She opened her eyes, squinting towards the ceiling as she tried to determine the source. She sat up and looked towards the tower door.
“It has to be the door,” she said as she threw back the covers and
quickly walked towards it ancient door. She climbed the tower steps and looked up towards the door that was flapping in the wind. Once at the top, she reached for the open door to latch it securely when something in the gallery caught her attention. She pushed open the door and stared in disbelief at a hammer lying on the ground surrounding by shrouds of glass.
“What in the world
?” Susanna muttered as she moved closer to investigate.
“Oh my God!” she cried out when she saw the source of the glass, “What has he done
?”
Susanna paced frantically in the room, the phone clutched in her hand, “He smashed it to pieces Emma, the entire thing!”
“What do you mean?”
“He said he couldn’t let me jeopardize my future by allowing me to cut myself off from my family and friends and my job. He said he wanted more for me but I told him that I only wanted him!” Susanna was crying into the phone as she collapsed on the couch.
“How can you know that will stop him from coming?”
“He’s late. He’s always here by now. He thought by destroying the lamp for good it will keep him from coming back!”
“Oh my goodness, Susanna
,” Emma’s voice betrayed her worry.
“What should I do, Emma?”
“I don’t know what to tell you child. I know he thinks he’s doing what’s best for you …”
“How can he think this is for the best?”
“Because he’s lived this life for over a hundred years. Trapped in this place without hope of anything more,” Emma was trying to comfort her by making her see his side.
“But
I’m
the hope,” she protested.
“Yes, but he doesn’t want that life for you.”
“Then why am I here?”
“I wish I knew, Susanna. I thought you would break the spell somehow, I had no idea this would turn out this way. I called to tell you that I had a vision but now I’m afraid it’s too late.”
Susanna attempted to focus on what Emma was saying, “What vision?”
“About the cards.
I told you I kept pulling the Four of Swords card and that I didn’t understand the meaning of it but I truly felt it was significant because it kept showing up. I kept trying to tie the meaning of the card to Kane’s situation and I couldn’t put it together, but today I had a vision and I think I finally understand.”
“Tell me,” Susanna said, “I have to try something.”
“We’ve been focused on the wrong thing, it’s not the meaning of the card, Susanna, it’s the card itself. The actual image of the card.”
“What do you mean?” Susanna stood and started walking toward her computer.
“Normally there is always a deep meaning behind every one of my readings but sometimes things are much more simple than what they seem. Sometimes they are just purely visual. I’ve missed it all along.”
“So what are you saying, the answer to this is on the card?”
“I don’t have the answer but I feel like it’s there, yes. Can you pull up the card on your computer?”
“I’m doing it now,” Susanna said as she typed in the search bar and quickly hit the word image. She remembered pulling this very image the previous night when Kane was sitting beside her. She enlarged the image as much as she could on the screen, “I see the tomb and swords, the gold the purple and the window. What am I missing?”
“It has to be there, think about everything you can, everything you know, there has to be a connection,” Emma said.
Susanna stared at the screen, the picture looked simple and easy enough, what was she missing? “Emma, I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t come back.”
“Susanna, thing are always as they are meant to be. Remember that.”
Susanna sat at the kitchen table with the image of the Four of Swords staring back at her. She enlarged the image to carefully scan every minuscule detail making sure there was nothing unseen. Her eyes were swollen from the tears that seemed to be ever flowing. She was sick to her stomach and at her wit’s end when she grabbed a flashlight and headed to the top of the tower to look at the lamp. Maybe it had repaired itself. Maybe the forces that brought him here were too strong and the shattered lamp meant nothing. She ran up the iron steps barefoot and opened the door to the gallery. The wind whipped around her as she shined the light towards the lamp in the darkness. It was still shattered! She muffled her cry and closed her eyes in despair.
How could he have done this!
She walked towards the gallery wall and leaned on it for support. The buoy bell ringing in the distance was the only noise as she cried quietly alone.
“Kane, what have you done?” she whispered to the wind through her tears as she rested her head on the brick wall. Despondent, Susanna turned to leave the gallery and immediately
cried out in pain as a piece of glass from the shattered lamp sliced into her foot. Lifting her injured limb she grabbed the jagged edge and pulled it free, tossing it over the edge. She shined the light in her path and did what she could to avoid the rest and made her way back downstairs to the kitchen. Limping to the sink, she wet a paper towel and sat at the kitchen table to look at her foot. The cut itself wasn’t large but it was deep and was oozing a large amount of blood. It quickly began soaking into the paper towel so Susanna applied as much pressure as she could rally. Tears were still streaming down her face, tears for Kane and the thought of never seeing him again as well as fresh tears from her wound. It was so stupid for her to go up there barefoot and she could almost hear his firm voice telling her so. She cried silently at the table as the wind thrash around the island. A pop of lightening flashed outside causing the power to fade and blink off and then back on again. Susanna looked up at the kitchen light.
“Please no, not now,” she cried, not sure how much more chaos she could take. She stared at the dimming light and watched as it faded off, “
Damnit!” she screamed in frustration. The only source of light now came from her computer which still carried the enlarged picture of the Four of Swords. She closed her eyes and silently prayed the power would not be off for too long. She opened them again and fixated on the picture, staring mindlessly at every detail.
The power blinked back on, the light from the kitchen illuminating the room.
“Thank you God,” she said and looked down at her bloodied foot. Her paper towel was now soaked through and she stood at the table to go for another one. As she put her weight on her injured foot she winced in pain and reached out to steady herself. Her hands touched the cold glass of the window before she found her balance and hopped to the kitchen counter. This time she grabbed a towel as well and ran it under the water, feeling the need to clean up the mess she had made by bleeding everywhere. She wiped the table first and then the floor before looking towards the window where a solid smear of blood traced across the glass. She raised her hand to wipe it away when she noticed that the blood smear appeared directly on top of the words that Kane had etched there. She stopped and focused on it, for some reason unwilling to wipe it away.
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she looked at his words smeared in her blood, “Kane,”
she whispered in tears, dropping the towel and touching the glass with her own fingers which were still stained with blood. Suddenly she froze, looking at the words as her blood seeped into the etched glass. Chills ran up her body and everything else around her seemed to fade. She turned back to her computer which had gone dim from lack of use and she hit the enter button to bring the image back on screen. Bending down she looked at the image once again, this time focusing on the stained glass window in the background, a detail of the picture that she had barely noticed before. The images on the stained glass were not easy to make out but the predominant color was red. Susanna looked back at the window where Kane’s words marred the glass and pressed her hand there again. She closed her eyes and tried to remember when he told her about carving them. She remembered his aunt Meara calling to him and how he used the keeper’s knife. She remembered him telling her how after carving them he laid down in a bed that was directly under the window until he started to feel the early signs of death. She recalled him not wanting to go, telling Meara he wasn’t ready. Fresh tears streamed down her face at the memory of their conversation as her hand rested on his bloody words. Her eyes snapped open and she pulled her hand away to look at her own fingers covered in blood, just as his had been a hundred hears before. She could hear his words as if he was speaking them right beside her,
and I reach out towards the window to the words I’ve just etched there. I remember touching the window, the same window where I first saw you. I remember seeing my blood on the glass, smeared across the very words I had written.
“The glass!
That’s it!” Susanna cried out in realization.
Chapter 31
Susanna
picked up her phone and dialed Emma’s number. The woman answered on the first ring, “Susanna?”
“Emma! I know what it is!”
“What is it?”
“It’s the glass! The night he dies he picks up the keepers knife that’s on the table and he ca
rves the words into the glass …”
“Susanna, we know the words are his, there must be something else,” Emma says.
“No, but as he’s dying he sees a vision of his aunt who’s been dead for over ten years. He knows what’s coming and he starts to fight. He tells her he doesn’t want to go and he reaches out with the last of his strength and he told me the last thing he remembers is touching the glass and seeing his blood on the words there.”
“Go on,” Emma urged.
“Tonight I cut my foot upstairs on the glass from the lamp and I came down to clean it up and I accidently touched the glass myself and saw my blood there, on his words, and suddenly I remembered.”
“Susanna …”
“Look at the card Emma, the Four of Swords. We were focused on the tomb and the swords but what we didn’t see was the stained glass window in the background, look at it!” Susanna demanded.
Emma was silent for a few moments before she spoke, “I see it now,” she said in astonishment, “It all looks so clear now.”
“I have to stop him from etching on the glass. That is what’s tying him to this place.”
“Susanna, you have to trust me. You and Kane have a special connection that he holds with no one else in this world. You must try to reach him and communicate however you can.”
“How?”
“
It’s right there before you, your blood is already there, mixed with his … soaked into his very words. There is no greater bond than the window. It’s where you first saw him.”
“The window,” Susanna
whispered, pressing her bloody hand against the glass.
Kane clutched the wool blanket around his bare shoulders as he sat before the fire. Even though his body was shivering uncontrollably, he reached for another log to place on the fire. As he did, he suddenly got a flash of his own hand in the daylight placing a log upon the same fire. But this time his hands were warm and free from the bloody wounds that were there now. He dropped the log and stared down at his bloody hands, turning them over to inspect them. He pushed away from the fire and went to the shelf that held pictures and letters. He picked up the picture of the little girl and held it in his hands. As he placed it back on the shelf a single letter fell slowly to the floor. He bent to retrieve it, quickly scanning the page.
Susie.
He focused on the flagrant S of her name. A flash of green eyes and blond hair and laughter filled his senses. He staggered backwards and dropped the letter on the floor. He turned towards the kitchen and closed his eyes as another vision seemed to knock the wind from him. He heard the piercing sounds of glass shattering against the floor. His eyes snapped open and he squinted as he peered into the kitchen which suddenly did not seem very foreign at all.
How could he know this place? He had never been here before?
He walked to the kitchen and reached for a cabinet, knowing before the doors opened what lay behind it. He pulled out a plate, his blood smearing across the familiar china pattern.
How? How did he know what was there?
Backing away from the kitchen he went to the table and held onto it for support. He saw the keeper’s notepad and pen along with a half finished wood pipe and knife. His fingers ached to the bone but he reached for it, firmly grasping the knife in his bloody fingers. He walked to the window and peered into the darkness. He was dizzy with pain, his eyes closing with confusion when suddenly he heard the laughter of a little girl. He opened his eyes to stare into the dark abyss outside, resting his head against the window.
Warmth!
He pulled away and reached out to touch the window with his bare hands.
The window was warm!
How was that possible?
Snow covered the ground outside with sheets of icy rain pelting the island.
Kane pressed his bloody hand against the glass and closed his eyes as the unnatural warmth from the window seeped into his
weakened body. He held his hand there, unwilling and unable to move as he took a deep drawing breath. He could hear the laughter again and smiled as the cheerful sound seemed to rush throughout his body. The wool blanket dropped to the floor and pooled at his feet, the shaking in his body beginning to subside. He opened his eyes and looked toward the shelf, the letter still lying on the floor. The laughter became louder, the window warmer as he focused on the letter. He turned his attention back to the window, not understanding the forces that were drawing him to it
. This can’t be real. I must be dreaming!
There was no explanation for how his body seemed to be restoring and repairing itself as he pressed his hand to the glass. He tried to recall what had drawn him to the window initially. He stared down at the knife he clutched in his other hand. He took a deep breath, feeling a renewed strength of purpose and survival. He turned the knife over and his eyes widened in disbelief …
were his hands healing before his eyes?
He looked back at the window and suddenly the image of a little girl appeared on the other side. His eyes narrowed as she stared at him through the glass. Her hand was pressed against his, her wide green eyes watching him through the hazy glass. His heartbeat felt as though it tripled in his chest. He opened his dry parched mouth to speak to her, her name on the tip of his tongue and yet just out of reach …
Susanna leaned against the wall for support, her bloody hand still pressed against the glass. Her eyes were closed as she silently prayed whatever it was she was doing would work. It felt like a futile attempt but she continued on, despite the feeling of helplessness. This was it, it was the last resort. She had given up on being reasonable and questioning this entire bizarre set of circumstances in which she had found herself. She thought back to Emma’s words about how things are always as they are meant to be. If she was meant to be with him he would return. If she had been sent here to save him from the eternal death day after day by breaking this curse so that he could finally die in peace, then so be it. She just wanted to know that he was okay, one way or another.
Thunder cracked in the sky above her, the wind causing the shutters to crash
wildly against the side of the brick cottage. Once again the lights flickered around her. She was again surrounded by total darkness and yet she didn’t pull her hand away. She kept it there, pressed against the cold glass. Seconds ticked by as she silently continued to mouth her words of prayer. With a distant electric hum the lights began to fade back on. The old cottage creaked in protest of the storm causing Susanna to open her eyes and look towards the glass. She could see his reflection in the glass and she blinked in confusion.
Was she hallucinating?
“Susanna,” his voice was rich and vibrant and seemed to echo throughout the room
and wrap around like a cocoon.
She was scared to move in case she was dreaming and this would be the last vision she would have of him. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs as she smiled toward his reflection.
“Turn around, Susanna,” he commanded.
“I’m scared you’ll disappear,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I won’t disappear … ever again.”
Susanna shook her head, “This is what brought you back
. If I take my hand away you’ll be gone again,” tears streamed down her cheeks.
Susanna could suddenly feel him behind her. His arm reached out, his fingers sliding along her arms as hi
s hand met hers at the window, “Take your hand away and see.”
Susanna, her hands shaking with trepidation, pulled her fingers away from the glass. Kane entwined his
hand with hers as he ran both of their fingers across the smooth unmarked glass, “The words are gone, Susanna.”
She blinked with astonishment at the clean glossy window before her, his words
now absent from the glass. She let out a soft cry before turning into his embrace. Kane’s arms wrapped around her before lifting her from the ground, “How did you do it? How did you reach me?”
Tears poured down her cheeks as she held onto him, “Once I realized it was your own words etched into the glass and then sealed with your blood that was keeping you here, I knew that the window was our only connection.”
Kane pulled away from her, “I was there again, reliving my final minutes as I’ve always done and then suddenly you were everywhere. I could see your eyes and hear your laughter but I couldn’t quite remember who you were. I grabbed the knife and went to the window and somehow I could feel you on the other side, as if you were pulling me here. The window was warm and it started to heal me. I could feel your warmth from 100 years away.”
Susanna pulled away from him, still unable to believe he was standing before her, “The lamp
? It’s shattered … how did you get here?”
Kane exhaled a long sigh of contentment,
“The light didn’t bring me here Susanna, you did.”
As the dawn crept across the now peaceful sky, Susanna and Kane walked hand in hand to the dock at the far side of the island. The waves cascaded around the wood pilings as the birds soared above them.
“Are you ready?” she asked him, doubt still clouding her eyes.
“I am,” he replied, this time his smile was radiant and filled with hope. Without hesitation Kane and Susanna stepped onto the faded wood of the dock and took slow but determined steps one by one towards the end. As they neared the edge, Susanna let out a pent up breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. Kane reached out and ran his hand through the foggy mist of daybreak, the soft sunlight cascading through his fingers. Tears sprang to Susanna’s eyes as Kane turned to her and lifted her in his arms high above him. He let out a deep and joyous cry that echoed all around them.
Emma sat anxiously next to her husband as the old boat gently cut through the small waves as they sailed toward the island. Her hands fidgeted the closer they got and she strained through the early morning fog until she was able to make out two figures on the end of the dock. Her smile widened and she raised a hand in greeting.
“What the blazes?” Bill said, narrowing his eyes towards them, “Who on earth is that?”
“Bill, I’ll explain later,” Emma patted him on the knee.
“Woman, what have you done?” he shook his head, “
Not everyone needs you meddling in their life.”
“Bill, it’s not what you think,” Emma smiled at the couple who greeted them on the dock.
Kane assisted Susanna into the boat and then took a step down to take his place beside her. Emma turned to him and reached out to hold his face in her hands, “Welcome home Kane O’Reilly,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
“You don’t have your stuff,” Bill huffed, pointing out the obvious.
Susanna shook her head, “We’ll be back. We just wanted to explore a little,” she gave Kane a smile.
“Well, you can come and go as you like as long as you can work this old thing. But she’s an ancient one and a little finicky at times,” Bill patted the old wooden boat as he turned it around in the water before looking at Kane, “Can you handle this old thing?”
“I’m sure I can manage,” Kane answered with a grin.
Susanna curled into Kane’s arm as the little boat carried them to
ward the mainland. They both watched as Bill leaned toward his wife and said a little too loudly, “What did you call him?”
Kane
looked at Susanna and raised his hand in the small space between them. Susanna raised hers, their fingers pressed together without a pane of glass or the burden of 100 years in between them as the sun climbed in the eastern sky.
“
Well? What do you think?” she smiled at him in complete adoration.
Kane’s brown eyes were
brimming with the peace and contentment that he felt, “I think I’m finally ready for the rest of my life,” he said as he pressed his lips to hers.